


I'll Be Your Worst Decision

by RetroactiveCon



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barry Allen Is A Human Vibrator, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:10:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21720820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: “Getting cocky there, Rathaway,” the Flash taunts.Hartley grins over his shoulder. “I’m not the only one, hmm, Flash?” He presses his hips back and is rewarded with a little hitch in the Flash’s rapid breathing. “How unexpectedly naughty of you. Does catching criminals always turn you on, or is it just me?”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Hartley Rathaway
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64





	I'll Be Your Worst Decision

Hartley stalks through STAR Labs. The way to the Cortex is second nature to him, no matter how long it’s been since he worked here with Harrison Wells. He can walk the halls by muscle memory, leaving him free to constantly scan his surroundings for anything that might complicate his plans. 

A whisper of air behind him, too soft for anyone but a meta to hear, warns him of company. “Flash,” he says, turning on his heel and holding out his gauntleted hands, palms out. “Back for more?”

The Flash regards him through his scarlet mask. “It’s over, Rathaway.” 

Hartley smiles. “Oh, this isn’t the endgame, Flash. Not even close.”

They move at the same time: Hartley thrusts out his arms and sends a sonic blast pulsing down the hallway while the Flash blurs into motion. Hands seize Hartley’s wrists, warm enough to feel even through his heavy gauntlets. The next thing he knows, his gauntlets have been thrown halfway down the hallway and the Flash is behind him, pinning his hands against the small of his back. 

“Getting cocky there, Rathaway,” the Flash taunts. 

Hartley grins over his shoulder. “I’m not the only one, hmm, Flash?” He presses his hips back and is rewarded with a little hitch in the Flash’s rapid breathing. “How unexpectedly naughty of you. Does catching criminals always turn you on, or is it just me?”

“Shut up.” A gust of air rushes past his cheek as the Flash speeds around his right side. Hartley feels cold pressure against his wrists seconds before a metallic _click-click-click_ tells him he’s been cuffed. 

“Kinky,” he approves. His voice is steady, which goes some way to disguise the way his knees go weak when the cuffs lock in place. 

The Flash’s cheeks are as red as his suit. Sweet, blushing naïf. The things Hartley would do to him if he had the chance…but he would have to go oh-so-slowly. He doubts this darling boy has been exposed to anything kinkier than a bit of dirty talk. Still, despite his embarrassment, the Flash rallies admirably. “I said hush.” 

The Flash tugs Hartley forward by his bound hands. Hartley goes without a fight, although he can’t help looking longingly at his gauntlets as he passes them. 

“You’re not going to run me to my cell?” he demands. “Too tired? Or is this your way of gloating?” 

The Flash doesn’t reply. Even his comm line, usually a source of reassuring (albeit somewhat painful) background noise, has gone silent—Hartley doubts it’s open. A move by the team to prevent him hearing the Flash’s arrival? Perhaps. Or perhaps the Flash is out after hours—no team, no backup, and no one watching the cameras to ensure his safety. 

“Don’t answer, that’s fine. I’d be a poor excuse for a scientist if I couldn’t make inferences.” He tries to yank his handcuffed wrists from the Flash’s grip, more to be playful than to start a fight. The Flash retaliates by pulling him sharply forward and almost knocking him off-balance. “Your comms are off, STAR Labs is silent…you’re alone, aren’t you? What, do your little friends keep nine to five hours without Wells here to keep them in line?” 

“They deserved a night off,” the Flash says, his eyes locked forward. It’s an odd show of discipline from a hero who’s usually so distractible. 

“Ohh.” Hartley laughs. This is just too easy. “You really are alone. And you’re tired, too…I can see it in the way you walk.” They round a corner that leads into the accelerator proper. Hartley has only moments before he’s thrown back in his antiproton-cavity cell, but he’s too titillated by this most recent revelation to mind. “I’ll wager you’re too tired to think straight. And there’s no one watching…no one to stop you from making a mistake. Just one is all I need.” 

“Oh really?” The Flash turns to him and gives him an insolent stare as he opens the door to the particle accelerator. The antiproton cavity has already been called up and is waiting to receive its familiar prisoner. “What kind of ‘mistake’?” 

“Well, any, really,” Hartley admits, “but I did have one in mind.”

With no other warning, he slips his bound arms around the Flash’s neck and pulls him into a kiss. The Flash is startled enough that he opens up, at least at first. Hartley takes advantage, turning the kiss hot and dirty. 

“O-off!” The Flash pushes away from him. He sounds less upset than confused and looks about how he sounds: his pretty eyes are wide and dazed and his lips are parted around little shocked breaths. Hartley wants nothing more than to kiss him again without the cowl in the way. “What was that?”

Hartley smirks. “That was a kiss, Flash. A fairly good one at that, although you were a bit passive for my tastes.”

“Oh God.” The Flash’s eyes flicker between Hartley’s eyes and his lips. He’s a hairsbreadth from giving in to what Hartley is so delightedly offering; he just needs the right encouragement. “This is a mistake.”

“Yes,” Hartley agrees, “but it’s going to feel so good you won’t notice.” 

This time, it’s the Flash who brings their lips together. He’s far less passive now. Hartley opens up to him immediately, letting him take whatever he wants and more. There’s a rush of air around them before Hartley’s back impacts the wall with a muffled thump. He’s knocked off-balance, allowing the Flash to step between his legs and pin him in place. Hartley grins at him, pretending to be less dazed than he is. “I don’t think you’re going to have very much fun in that costume, although I’ll admit, being fucked by a man in head-to-toe leather is a longtime fantasy of mine.” 

“Who said I was going to fuck you?” The Flash goes half-cross-eyed trying to meet Hartley’s gaze. He’s trying to look defiant, an endeavor utterly ruined by the way he leans into Hartley’s warmth. 

“Oh,” Hartley teases, rolling his hips forward. The Flash’s mouth drops open and he makes a sweet stifled sound in his throat. “Would you prefer it the other way around? You seemed to enjoy pushing me around so much that I thought…”

“Stop talking.” The Flash presses their lips together. Hartley allows him one more kiss, even filthier than the last, before he pushes him away and turns around so he’s facing the wall. 

“It’s going to be easier this way,” he says over his shoulder. He braces his forearms against the cool metal surface. The bulky cuffs make it difficult to rest his hands the way he would like, but with that exception, he’s as comfortable as he can hope to be. “If you trust me like this?”

The Flash’s hands grip his hips hard enough to leave bruises. Hartley moans and braces himself more firmly against the wall to compensate for his suddenly untrustworthy legs. “I said shut up.” 

Three lighting-blurred moves discard the Flash’s gloves and send Hartley’s trousers and briefs pooling around the tops of his boots. He spreads his legs as best he can and arches his back. “I want you in me now, Flash. Put that speed to good use.”

A minute or two later, with the Flash’s fingers fucking in and out of him and vibrating at a speed that makes sparks dance behind Hartley’s eyes, he can’t say he regrets how his order was interpreted. The Flash laughs somewhat breathlessly. “So that’s how to make you shut up.” 

Hartley gasps something incoherent. Just as well he can’t speak—he isn’t sure whether he tried to say “Fuck you” or “Fuck me.” They would probably accomplish the same thing in the end, but the sentiment is vastly different. 

The vibrations slow almost to a stop. In some dim part of his brain not hazy with pleasure, Hartley supposes this is to avoid hurting him. That doesn’t stop him from keening in protest and pushing his hips back. The Flash gives another of those breathless laughs and switches out his fingers for his cock. 

_“Ohfuck.”_

Hartley would make a smart remark about him supposedly being a child-friendly hero, but he’s having a hard time thinking beyond _full_ and _pleasure_ and _heat._ The Flash radiates heat that makes Hartley want to press closer to him. Then he's pressed flush against Hartley's back, a line of radiant warmth from the nape of Hartley’s neck to the tops of his thighs. Hartley moans and leans back against him, torn between wanting him to move and wanting him to stay exactly like this until someone finds them. 

“Hartley,” the Flash whispers, gentle compared to how curt he was earlier. He nuzzles his nose against the angle of Hartley’s jaw, begging without words for a kiss. He tilts his head back as best he can and kisses him, hot and deep and sloppy. Together, they set a rhythm that matches the kiss. Around the time Hartley’s neck twinges in protest, the Flash starts to vibrate again. Hartley breaks the kiss to moan. 

“Barry, fuck…harder, harder, please…” 

The Flash obliges. Hartley arches his back, trying to take him deeper. It’s the change in angle, combined with the fact that the Flash wraps a vibrating hand around Hartley’s cock, that sends him over the edge. He bites down on his tongue to muffle his cry and scarcely feels the pain. 

When he opens his eyes, they’re both braced against the wall. Lean, strong arms are wrapped around his waist, keeping both of them steady. Hartley lifts his head. “That was…”

_“Hot,”_ is the immediate response, muffled against his shoulder. He laughs. 

“I’m glad you’re so easily satisfied. I fell out of character at the end.” 

“I noticed.” Barry lifts his head. His cowl is askew: one side has ridden up so that the cheek piece obscures his eye and a tuft of sweaty hair pokes through the misplaced eyehole. Hartley reaches back and pushes the cowl off entirely, allowing him an unimpeded view of Barry’s giddy expression. “You were awfully pushy for the guy against the wall.” 

Hartley smirks. “That’s because you were never in control. I don’t think you wanted to be, although you were wonderfully physical at times.”

“I forgot, you like it when I manhandle you.” Barry pulls out of him and helps pull his trousers back to a respectable position. “Uh, gimme a second.” 

There’s a rush of air. When he returns, he’s in civilian clothes, presentable except for his rumpled hair and pink cheeks. Hartley holds up his cuffed wrists. “You had best still have the key.”

“Uh…just a second.” He’s gone and back before Hartley can draw a breath to chastise him. “I knew I forgot something…” he mutters under his breath, slipping the key into the lock and taking the handcuffs when they fall open.

“Sweet boy.” Hartley resists the instinctive urge to rub his wrists. They’re not sore, although the chill from the metal has seeped into his skin. Instead, he raises a hand to Barry’s flushed cheek. “Straightening up didn't help. You look unmistakably post-orgasmic.” 

“So do you.” Barry nuzzles Hartley’s jaw. He pulls him into another kiss, lazy and deep enough to leave them both breathless. “Was that what you wanted?”

“And more.” Hartley wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him gently toward the door. “Should we leave before the cameras come back on?”

The color drains from Barry’s face as though he’s been stabbed. Hartley knows what he’s going to say before he opens his mouth. “You left the cameras on.”

“…I left the cameras on.” Barry hangs his head. 

“Well, best hope no one goes through old entries, or they’re in for a surprise.” This is far from the first time Hartley has been part of an illicit meeting that made it onto STAR Labs footage. He doesn’t mind. Barry is still blushing about it, though, so Hartley pulls him into one last kiss before they leave.


End file.
